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Bitches is crazy
I just sneezed something like ten times in five minutes. I think that's my allergies' way of telling me to clean my room. Well. FAT CHANCE OF THAT HAPPENING, ALLERGIES.
…I need a maid.[/first world problems]
In non-first-world-problem news, you guys are amazing. Paypal takes a small chunk away from every donation, but currently I still have a net balance of something like $460. I'm praying the rent assistance comes through this morning too, because if it does, and if I get the full amount (almost enough for rent), I'll be able to pay October's rent/late fee (with both the donations/assistance combined) & have a little to put toward next month's. Plus it means I can eat a little until the SNAP funds come through, which they're taking their sweet-ass time doing (it could take until the 18th at the latest). I actually counted up all the pennies in my apartment this weekend, taking them to the local coinstar machine, and ended up with a little over five bucks, and was all excited because it meant I could buy ice cream & toilet paper without guilt/stress (the ice cream was a treat). So, yeah. If it weren't for all of you, I'd have eleven dollars left right now.
This still leaves bills that are late, my needing to get a job and/or school loans asap, the possibility of rent assistance *not* going through, but it's SOMETHING. A lot of something. It makes thinking about handling the rest significantly easier, and I appreciate that hugely.
I'll be going to the food pantry tonight--it turned out to be way far from the nearest bus stop, and I was concerned I couldn't carry a week's worth of food/supplies nearly a mile by myself--with my old Xerox coworker/friend, B (not the 'B' I had a crush on. Heh. There were two of them!). Technically, her name is actually Rachel, but, y'know, since MINE is Rachael, we call each other by our last names or last initials. ~As one does~. (there really were too many damn Rach(a)els born in the 1970s/'80s, seriously) She offered on her own to take me to Trader Joe's afterward too, at her expense, since they supposedly have a lot of GF stuff & what-not. Accepting help like this from a friend still makes me nervous--you never know if the person's trying to somehow "fix" you, is doing it out of pity not love, and will expect some type of medal for it later--but that doesn't eliminate the gratitude.
In other, more random news:
-I think the recent extra burst of stress is taking its toll on my body now (or: adjusting to the new med, perhaps? Or both?). I've been sleeping like 10-12 hours a night, still needing naps, totally exhausted, yet my heart's just like "BEATBEATBEATBEAT" non-stop. I'll wake up from one of said naps, and my pulse will still just be truckin' along like a spazzy crackhead, all rapid-fire. And I'm like, "Uhh, I've been unconscious, not moving. WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM, HEART?" I'd write it off to bad dreams, but it's often like that when I'm awake too, and I've been down this road many-a-times before with palpitations, so I know it's just something to accept & not freak out over. So annoying though. Every time it happens, the neurotic, irrational part of me yells, "OMG, IT'S A HEART-ATTACK." Then the rest of me is like, "SHUT UP, LOON. NO, IT'S NOT. UGH."
-When I was at the coinstar machine the other night? There was a woman in front of me in line with over $130 worth of change. I was just like: Umm. Dude. I will never make fun of pennies again.
-Dark Matters continues to be delightful. Here's a trailer (you know you want it):
America, circa early-1960s: HEY, SOVIETS. COMMIEDOUCHEBAGSAYSWHAT?
USSR: Wha--*beat* ORLLY? So, it's like that, huh?
America: IT'S LIKE THAT.
USSR: Hmm, well, guess what we'll be doing tonight while you're banging your mother?
America: Actually, that was your mother.
USSR: MY MOTHER IS DEAD.
America: …
USSR: ANYWAY. We'll be blowing up a big, fat nuke in space. But don't worry, it obviously has nothing to do with you. *shifty eyes*
America: THAT'S FINE. We'll just blow up a bigger one.
Scientists: Uhh, guys? That might not be a good idea.
America/USSR: SHUT UP, NERD.
~History~. It's fun like that. Also: there's people transplanting monkey heads. I bet you wish you had a monkey head.
-The new season of Psych starts this Wednesday. This is all I have to say:
-Last time I went to Taco Del Mar, there was an employee there who hadn't seen me in a while (she yelled out "HI!" when I walked in, causing the whole line to turn & stare. Heh. It was cute), and she told me I looked "skinnier." It's a weird thing, because of the issues I have regarding weight, but it did give me an ego-boost. I know the BMI is ridiculous, but with the dietary changes I've made so far, my weight has not only been staying more stable (less dramatic shifting of water weight--I'm still getting bloated, but not as severely on a constant basis), but it's reached the "normal" category. I was obsessed for so long with getting below 119, but I didn't even need to, actually. I must've been rounding my height down or something. 120/121 is "normal" for me as well. Just goes to show how easy it is to be irrational about the BMI though, particularly because it *by itself* is pretty irrational. However, I have to admit it does feel significant. In November of 2009, I was--at 4 feet 10 & a half inches tall--168 pounds. I wore a size 14-16. By last summer, I was about 135-140 pounds & wore a size 8-10. Now, I can fit both pairs of size four jeans I own. I think that's pretty decent.
-There's a good chance I'll be done with my fic in the next day or two. I spent most of yesterday working on it before hitting a block. I think I just needed a break though & am hoping I'll fly through the rest in similar fashion. It's *so close* to the end. It's one of the only things I feel interested in right now, too, so the mojo comes at a good time.
And that's it. I'm behind on comments again, but I'll try to catch up soon. In the meantime, here's an epic movie-style trailer of one of my favorite Psych eps (by PinkRosePictures2):
…I need a maid.[/first world problems]
In non-first-world-problem news, you guys are amazing. Paypal takes a small chunk away from every donation, but currently I still have a net balance of something like $460. I'm praying the rent assistance comes through this morning too, because if it does, and if I get the full amount (almost enough for rent), I'll be able to pay October's rent/late fee (with both the donations/assistance combined) & have a little to put toward next month's. Plus it means I can eat a little until the SNAP funds come through, which they're taking their sweet-ass time doing (it could take until the 18th at the latest). I actually counted up all the pennies in my apartment this weekend, taking them to the local coinstar machine, and ended up with a little over five bucks, and was all excited because it meant I could buy ice cream & toilet paper without guilt/stress (the ice cream was a treat). So, yeah. If it weren't for all of you, I'd have eleven dollars left right now.
This still leaves bills that are late, my needing to get a job and/or school loans asap, the possibility of rent assistance *not* going through, but it's SOMETHING. A lot of something. It makes thinking about handling the rest significantly easier, and I appreciate that hugely.
I'll be going to the food pantry tonight--it turned out to be way far from the nearest bus stop, and I was concerned I couldn't carry a week's worth of food/supplies nearly a mile by myself--with my old Xerox coworker/friend, B (not the 'B' I had a crush on. Heh. There were two of them!). Technically, her name is actually Rachel, but, y'know, since MINE is Rachael, we call each other by our last names or last initials. ~As one does~. (there really were too many damn Rach(a)els born in the 1970s/'80s, seriously) She offered on her own to take me to Trader Joe's afterward too, at her expense, since they supposedly have a lot of GF stuff & what-not. Accepting help like this from a friend still makes me nervous--you never know if the person's trying to somehow "fix" you, is doing it out of pity not love, and will expect some type of medal for it later--but that doesn't eliminate the gratitude.
In other, more random news:
-I think the recent extra burst of stress is taking its toll on my body now (or: adjusting to the new med, perhaps? Or both?). I've been sleeping like 10-12 hours a night, still needing naps, totally exhausted, yet my heart's just like "BEATBEATBEATBEAT" non-stop. I'll wake up from one of said naps, and my pulse will still just be truckin' along like a spazzy crackhead, all rapid-fire. And I'm like, "Uhh, I've been unconscious, not moving. WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM, HEART?" I'd write it off to bad dreams, but it's often like that when I'm awake too, and I've been down this road many-a-times before with palpitations, so I know it's just something to accept & not freak out over. So annoying though. Every time it happens, the neurotic, irrational part of me yells, "OMG, IT'S A HEART-ATTACK." Then the rest of me is like, "SHUT UP, LOON. NO, IT'S NOT. UGH."
-When I was at the coinstar machine the other night? There was a woman in front of me in line with over $130 worth of change. I was just like: Umm. Dude. I will never make fun of pennies again.
-Dark Matters continues to be delightful. Here's a trailer (you know you want it):
America, circa early-1960s: HEY, SOVIETS. COMMIEDOUCHEBAGSAYSWHAT?
USSR: Wha--*beat* ORLLY? So, it's like that, huh?
America: IT'S LIKE THAT.
USSR: Hmm, well, guess what we'll be doing tonight while you're banging your mother?
America: Actually, that was your mother.
USSR: MY MOTHER IS DEAD.
America: …
USSR: ANYWAY. We'll be blowing up a big, fat nuke in space. But don't worry, it obviously has nothing to do with you. *shifty eyes*
America: THAT'S FINE. We'll just blow up a bigger one.
Scientists: Uhh, guys? That might not be a good idea.
America/USSR: SHUT UP, NERD.
~History~. It's fun like that. Also: there's people transplanting monkey heads. I bet you wish you had a monkey head.
-The new season of Psych starts this Wednesday. This is all I have to say:
-Last time I went to Taco Del Mar, there was an employee there who hadn't seen me in a while (she yelled out "HI!" when I walked in, causing the whole line to turn & stare. Heh. It was cute), and she told me I looked "skinnier." It's a weird thing, because of the issues I have regarding weight, but it did give me an ego-boost. I know the BMI is ridiculous, but with the dietary changes I've made so far, my weight has not only been staying more stable (less dramatic shifting of water weight--I'm still getting bloated, but not as severely on a constant basis), but it's reached the "normal" category. I was obsessed for so long with getting below 119, but I didn't even need to, actually. I must've been rounding my height down or something. 120/121 is "normal" for me as well. Just goes to show how easy it is to be irrational about the BMI though, particularly because it *by itself* is pretty irrational. However, I have to admit it does feel significant. In November of 2009, I was--at 4 feet 10 & a half inches tall--168 pounds. I wore a size 14-16. By last summer, I was about 135-140 pounds & wore a size 8-10. Now, I can fit both pairs of size four jeans I own. I think that's pretty decent.
-There's a good chance I'll be done with my fic in the next day or two. I spent most of yesterday working on it before hitting a block. I think I just needed a break though & am hoping I'll fly through the rest in similar fashion. It's *so close* to the end. It's one of the only things I feel interested in right now, too, so the mojo comes at a good time.
And that's it. I'm behind on comments again, but I'll try to catch up soon. In the meantime, here's an epic movie-style trailer of one of my favorite Psych eps (by PinkRosePictures2):